


Fortune's Favor

by TechnoFay



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Alcohol, Ancano is Bisexual and Still a Douchebag, Animal Death, Asling and Adair, Awkwardness, Bad Decisions, Bad Jokes, Bad Puns, Bickering, Bisexual Male Character, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon Universe, Chaptered, Constant Vigilance, Death, Dragonborn (Elder Scrolls), Dragons, Drinking, Dumb Luck Can Get You Further Than You Think, Elves are Dicks, F/F, F/M, For the Furries, Gay Mages - Freeform, Gen, Heavy Drinking, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Inappropriate Humor, Lesbian Cat People, M/M, Magic, Magic-Users, Magical Accidents, Multi, Not Even The Divines Can Help Them Now, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poor Life Choices, Rating May Change, Sarcasm, Skyrim Main Quest, Snark, Snarky Elves, Surprise Pairing, Tags Are Fun, There's Sex Probably But No One Knows When It'll Happen, Unwanted Traveling Companions, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-09-18 18:08:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9397001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnoFay/pseuds/TechnoFay
Summary: Asling the Bosmer thought she was just another thief, but an unwilling trip across the border into Skyrim changed that outlook fast. Who will save the lands from dragons when the Dragonborn is practically useless as a warrior?Not the hero they wanted, needed, or even deserved.





	1. Origins

_Tirdas, the 18 th of Last Seed, 4E 201_

The midday sun blazing behind him, the dragon rose in the air, fireballs flicking off his tongue like the arrows Asling was shooting through his wings, circling above her like a giant, scaly vulture.

This was not the first dragon she had seen, but unfortunately for her, Asling could not flee from this one as she had in Helgen. There was nowhere to hide save for that miserable looking tower, and given the guards didn't fare too well with that approach, she had chose instead to buy herself time by fighting off the beast long enough that reinforcements would arrive.

If there was anyone left to send.

Asling reached around for another arrow, her hand grasping at air above her empty quiver.

Alright, new plan. She rolled out of the way as the dragon breathed more fire, the flames scorching the grass and licking at her boots. Tucking the bow out of the way, she frantically searched for something, anything she could use as a weapon to defend herself.

Spying the charred remains of one of the guards, his body twisted at an unnatural angle, Asling threw herself beside the body, carefully rolling him over to free his sword. Shame all his arrows were broken; if she could just cripple the beast, she might be able to make her escape.

Maybe she should just make a run for it anyways... but her spirits fell when she reexamined the area; nothing but open fields and gently rolling hills, up until the sudden slope of the mountain that loomed behind the tower.

No close cover... and no chance she could make that distance without being caught. Thieves were not supposed to be out in the open – in broad daylight no less – and with her only in thin leather armor, she was at a severe disadvantage. Might as well set herself on fire and save the dragon the trouble.

She bolted around the tower and dove behind the nearest cover she could find as the dragon looped back around, her fingers gripped tightly to the dented sword she had plucked off of the fallen guard, as there was no way her daggers could help her now.

 **{“Where are you going, little elf?”}** a loud booming voice called out to her, and she froze, shivering behind a crumbling wall of stone, her eyes wild in fear as her heart pounded hollowly against her ribcage.

Was that the dragon that spoke?

Doubtful... but who else was there to speak to her?

Asling let out a shaky breath, carefully lifting her head to peek around the wall, spying the dragon coming back around for a second assault, his eyes focusing directly on the slight movement behind the stone wall before she had the chance to hide again. Cursing loudly, she reevaluated her position and decided to hell with it. She was either going to die burned to a crisp cowering behind a wall, or she could die out in the open burned to a crisp; decidedly better to die with a bit of dignity she supposed.

Certainly was not how she expected to go.

Sword held in an unsteady grip, she looked up at the incoming dragon, pulling the bravest face she could muster given she was shaking in her boots, letting out a shrill shriek as an arrow whizzed by her and breaking what little concentration she had.

The cavalry had arrived at last; heavily armored guards from Whiterun came charging over the hill, and Asling debated once more on if she should bolt or not. Then again, she might be able to get away with looting the bodies if she survived this –

A roar from the dragon ripped her from her thoughts; the beast spiraling towards the ground, one wing torn to shreds by the guard's arrows.

He landed with a hard thud, the earth beneath her shaking from the impact, and Asling drew herself up again as the dragon reared his head, looking directly at her with his fiery gaze. Much to her displeasure, his scaly face drew back in a terrifying sneer, all teeth as he closed in on her, swatting away the incoming guards like they were toys.

Asling took a step back, shivering uncontrollably but raised the sword higher nonetheless; terrified or not, she would not just lay down and die.

 **{“Fight me!”}** The words rumbled from the dragon's throat as he lunched forward to snap at her, and Asling swiftly darted to the side, bring the blade back up. All her other options exhausted and with this beast unwilling to leave her be, Asling charged forward, tumbling headfirst over those great outstretched claws and weaved around to the side the dragon's great head.

“If you want a fight, then fine, you got it!” she screamed, drawing back and plunging the sword into the dragon's eye, ducking down to narrowly avoid those thick claws, then scrambling beneath the beast to regain her footing and finish the assault.

There was little left to do but finish this.

She lept upon the beast and clamped her legs around his neck, struggling to hold on as the beast thrashed beneath her in attempt to throw her off.

The other guards closed in, raining blows down on the beast's sides, but Asling paid them no mind, the distraction giving her enough opportunity to draw her dagger, raising the blade high and slamming it down with all her might into the dragon's skull.

There was a dull SHUNK as the blade slid in a slow shuddering motion, deeper into the dragon's hide and drawing a bone chilling howl from the beast. Asling held onto the dagger for dear life as the dragon flailed around, gradually sinking to the ground.

 **{“Dovahkiin...”}** The dragon spoke in a final raspy breath, then lay still. Asling exhaled, sliding off of the dragon’s head and plopped down on her backside in the dirt, her muscles sore and wiry from the battle. She looked up to see the guards closing in to examine the dead dragon, freezing and staring at her in awe.

“Umm... hello...” she panted, her brow furrowed at the way they were staring at her, until she realized their gaze was looking past her to the dragon.

Asling looked up and let out a frightened yelp, trying to jump to her feet then tripping falling back to the ground again, scooting across the ground on her backside in attempt to get away from whatever was happening to the dragon's corpse.

A brilliant spiraling light, the strands twisting through the air then plunging down into her body as she sat upon the ground, overrun by the sensation. She couldn't describe it; a brief presence, a strange warmth and a flash of insight of what just happened.

That was the dragon's soul. And she just absorbed it. Sitting upon the ground beside the dragon’s now bare skeleton, stunned, her head turned to the guards.

Okay, now they were staring at her.

“I-I don't believe it... you-you're Dragonborn...” one of the guards muttered, and Asling's face scrunched up, looking almost insulted.

“What?”


	2. Glory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently dead dragons turn into unwanted quests...

_Tirdas, the 18 th  of Last Seed, 4E 201 _

The sun was sinking low in the horizon by the time the small unit of guards returned to Whiterun, ascending the steps to Dragonsreach with Asling and Irileth, the Jarl's housecarl, leading the way. Asling glanced nervously around, unsure if it was a good idea to come waltzing back with the return party like she was some hero. She was a thief, a guttersnipe and definitely not the type of person to be heading into the front doors of the keep.

Why was she here?

Oh, right; she killed a dragon and there was always a chance of a reward. That and that weird light she absorbed out of the dragon, that apparently was it's soul.

Right.

Were it not for the possibility of a reward (or just even a hot meal she didn't have to pay for) she would have slipped off before the little brigade regrouped, but here she stood at the door of Skyrim's capital, awkwardly stomping the mud off of her boots without much effect.

Heads turned as they entered the keep, and she could feel eyes on her from all sides, squirming slightly in discomfort; Asling never was the one for being the center of attention. She absentmindedly glanced down and grimaced at the sight. Her armor was caked with dirt and dried blood – blood that probably was not all her own as the majority of her injuries were bruises – and could feel that her normally well groomed auburn hair was matted with dirt and sweat.

As far as appearances would go, disheveled would be putting it politely, though she doubted any of these people would say so politely under different circumstances. Caked with blood and mud at the foot of the throne; no wonder she was getting all those odd looks.

Oh yeah, and she killed a dragon.

Asling grinned again at the thought despite the fact that she had been very much terrified for her life a little over an hour ago. If only the old gang knew where she was now.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by Irileth speaking to the Jarl, and she straightened, her eyes darting to the side nervously, very aware that she was now surrounded by guards in a foreign city.

“My Jarl, we've slayed the dragon, although most of the work was done by Asling here,” the Dunmer spoke, sending Asling a sideways glace, her expression wary; she had already made it clear that she didn't trust Asling in the slightest. Well, at least someone had her pinned right, Asling thought silently, ignoring Irileth's hard gaze.

“The way you speak of it, surely that's not all that happened.” Jarl Balgruuf spoke and Asling – busy staring at a rather large burly Nord in heavy armor at the time – whipped her head back to face the Jarl, her brows arching up in surprise when she realized he was speaking directly to her.

“W-well, it turns out I may be something called Dragonborn...” She said slowly. Whispers and murmurs flew through the room in a whirlwind of excitement and she instantly regretted saying anything.

“Dragonborn?”

“Truly the Dragonborn comes now?”

“That's just what one of the guards told me,” Asling added hastily, a little louder as the whispering had turned into a dull roar. Balgruuf sat up slightly in his seat, waving one hand to call for quiet. He nodded steadily, his eyes trained on Asling, probing for more information.

“Dragonborn... is that so? Can you use shouts like the Greybeards?” He inquired, asking another question before Asling even had time to open her mouth.

“Where are you from?” Balgruuf asked, making her flinch. She let out a huff and met his gaze; might as well tell him about Helgen too, never mind how she got there in the first place.

“Maybe, I don't know and... Cyrodiil was where I was born if you mean that, but I came from Helgen before it was attacked,” she dodged, a new wave of whispers traveling among the nobles.

“What do you mean attacked? What happened in Helgen?” Balgruuf was sitting up straight now, alert to this new source of information and Asling shifting uncomfortably beneath his gaze as she went on.

“There was another dragon... i-it wasn't the one we killed at the watchtower. I think there might be more then one,” she said in a rush, trying to get it all out at once. Balgruuf looked from her to Irileth, the tendons in his neck rippling.

“Thank you for telling me. Irileth, send detachments to Riverwood at once,” he spoke and Asling relaxed, glad to have the attention off of her for the moment.

“Are you certain we should be sending troops so close to Falkreath?” A reedy looking man piped up, his protests quickly cut off by the Jarl.

“Enough! As I said, I won't stand by as a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people. As you were Irileth. And Asling,” Balgruuf spoke, turning his attention back on her. “I believe you're just the warrior I've been waiting for.”

Asling believed that Jarl Balgruuf might possibly be mad to think such a thing, but there wasn't much opportunity for her to say so. That and she still wanted a reward.

“My Jarl, if I might suggest something before I go.” Irileth leaned down spoke to Balgruuf in a low voice. They whispered back and forth for a minute, Asling just close enough to make out “Adair” and “something to do” before the Dunmer straightened and the Jarl called to one of his guards.

“Fetch Adair for me. I think I found a cause worthy enough for him,” the corner of his mouth tugged into a smile and Asling scrunched up her nose, sensing that something was off about this whole arrangement. Meanwhile Balgruuf had rose to his feet and was walking towards one of the side chambers branching off the main hall, Asling trailing behind him reluctantly.

Inside the chambers was a mage, busily fussing over a stack of papers and muttering to himself, hardly aware of the two people entering his room until the Jarl spoke to him. “Farengar! I think I've found someone to help you with your project.”

Farengar raised his head, regarding Asling with the same look one would have for a particularly fascinating insect, then turned towards the Jarl once more.

“Project? Oh yes, my research into dragons,” Farengar perked up, seemingly more interested now in conversation. Asling however cut to the chase before he could speak again.

“Yes, dragons, I saw one and then killed it,” she said airily then paused and looked to the Jarl in confusion. “Now... what do you want me to do?”

Farengar snorted, obviously less then impressed.

“Fetch an artifact for me. An ancient stone tablet called the Dragonstone. It's supposed to mark the locations of where the dragons are buried,” he explained, but Asling had stopped listening once she heard what she was supposed to collect; what and where were her only concerns.

“It's housed in Bleak Falls Burrow, west of Riverwood, have you a map?” he asked, not looking the least bit surprised when Asling shook her head no, who was a little miffed by his expression. Hard to buy a map when you had just hopped the border this morning; never mind getting attacked by a dragon.

“What's this about a map?” A new voice cut in. Clad in heavy polished steel, a tall, lightly tanned mer stepped into the room. He stood at attention, wide-set almond shaped eyes peered out of his narrow face, their hue set in a shade of deep gold. A small patch of dark facial hair sat beneath his lower lip, neatly trimmed to a point while beneath it, his jaw was set in a heavy scowl that looked to be permanently etched into his face.

What stunned her the most about his appearance was his jet black hair, the length of his locks loosely brushed back out of his face and tapered down to his broad shoulders.

He was handsome... but looked like an absolute stiff.

“Ah! Adair, there you are! This is Asling; you'll be aiding her on her quest,” Balgruuf gestured to Asling and the newcomer leveled his gaze on her, eyes narrowing as he took in her appearance.

Asling stared back, a slight frown on her face; strange... she had never seen an Altmer with such dark hair. The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity to Asling until Balgruuf spoke again, either unaware of the tension or unconcerned.

“And Asling, before you go I've a reward for your services in slaying the dragon; a bit of gold and your pick of a piece of armor or weapon from my armory. Adair can show you the way and I'll have Proventus get your gold for you before you depart,” Balgruuf said, and Asling's face lit up in delight; at least she was getting something from all of this.

Adair dipped his head to the Jarl and left the chambers, Asling looking after him in uncertainty before jogging up to join him.

“Asling,” she said, offering him her hand. He looked at it, then took her hand and shook it once before quickly releasing it.

“Adair,” he spoke in a detached tone.

“Delighted,” Asling replied in the same dry tone he had used. A high elf acting all high and mighty was nothing new to her; if he wanted to act this way, then she was more then willing to play along.

* * *

 

Some time later, Asling skipped down the steps into town, cradling her new bow; a finely polished glass piece that glittered a rich emerald green in the torches as they passed. Adair trudged along behind her with a sour look on his face. All that training and he was babysitting.

He looked to his rather filthy companion and sighed; might as well make the best of it.

“So... Asling? That's it? What's your last name?” He asked in an attempt to start a conversation, not knowing he would soon regret his decision. Asling looked at him and laughed lightly.

“No no... we don't know each other well enough for that. You can have my last name if you buy me a drink,” she replied and sent Adair a cheeky grin, which he responded to with a scowl.

“I don't drink.”

“You don't have to drink; you can buy me one, and I'll drink it.”

“You've got plenty of gold now, buy your own drink,” he growled, wishing he never spoke in the first place.

“Aren't you just a ray of sunshine,” Asling said sarcastically, pushing the door open to the Bannered Mare and slapping a stack of coins on the bar.

“We'd like a room please, and I'll have an order of spiced beef...” her eyes glazed over at the thought as it had been a week since she had anything besides salmon. The innkeeper regarded her with a blank expression, more reserved of her distaste of such a dirty customer in her tavern given said customer had gold in hand.

“And a bath drawn,” Adair chimed in, ignoring the nasty look Asling sent him.

“And with that, you can sleep on the floor,” she smirked, watching gleefully as he puffed up in anger.

“I'll get my own damn room,” he snapped.

“Umm I'm sorry, but there's only one room...” the innkeeper interjected, waving over a barmaid to take their order then scraping the coins off the counter and making them disappear.

“Hmm... floor it is then,” Asling preened in triumph, tilting her head to the side to grin at Adair, who closed his eyes slowly, teeth cliched tight to prevent anything else coming out of his mouth.

This was going to be a long journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we have another person stuck suffering with her.


	3. Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of a quest... funny how one ends up breeding more.

_ Middas, the 19  th  of Last Seed, 4E 201  _

Fed, well rested and stocked up for the journey, a refreshed (and now clean) Asling skipped along the dirt path, whistling off-key, with the polar opposite Adair keeping up without effort thanks to his long stride. He was still irate at the rude awakening he had gotten this morning.

Lucky enough that Asling was deep in her cups, he took a chance and joined her in the bed – his first mistake – his second being that he slept on the edge of the bed. When Asling rolled over in her sleep and kicked him, he had the wonderful opportunity to learn how hard the wooden floor was.

Adair let out a short huff, adjusting the strap on his knapsack, feeling the familiar weight of his steel blade against his back and was glad to at least be properly armed once more.

Daggers alone did not cut it, he thought with distaste.

“Decided to trade up to impress me?” Asling had said as soon as she saw the great sword strapped to his back, smiling sweetly at him as they headed out the gate. The expression made her appear strangely innocent accompanied by her youthful face, but given a minute or two with her would ruin that illusion, Adair merely gave her wry look.

He was already irritated because Asling had wasted almost half an hour flirting with the proprietor of The Drunken Huntsman before finally buying her arrows; although he did admit she got a pretty good discount...

“No... I was having Adrianne temper the blade for me. This sword has seen lots of action,” he replied and Asling bit the side of her cheek, trying to contain herself long enough for him to finish speaking.

“Oh, so you've always been prone to “compensating” then?” she grinned and he merely scowled, moving a few paces ahead of her and lapsing into silence. They reached the crossroads past the Honningbrew Meadery, and Asling went straight over the bridge, Adair skidding to a halt.

“Where are you going? Riverwood is this way,” he called out to her as she drew away, watching her in disbelief.

“I know, I can read,” she pointed to the sign without slowing. “But I'm not going to Riverwood, I'm headed for Riften.”

“No.” The tone Adair took was a warning that the matter was not up for debate, which she ignored.

“You can't make me go, just do the quest without me. A simple fetch quest shouldn't be that hard for you,” Asling laughed, making it halfway across the bridge before Adair strode up and nimbly plucked her off the ground, tossing her over his shoulder like his knapsack. Ignoring her cry, and subsequent protests, he turned on the ball of his foot and headed up the hill towards Riverwood.

“What in Oblivion are you doing?! Put me down!” Asling twisted in his hold, trying to break free.

“I don't think so,” he replied, hefting her up so she hung farther down his back, losing what little leverage she had.

“You can't make me do this!”

“I can and I will.”

“What, are you going to carry me the entire way there?” Asling scoffed at his words, crossing her arms, then grinned. “Tie me up so I can't run away?”

Adair couldn't see her face, but pictured her raising her brows at him.

“Yes... maybe I'll gag you as well,” Adair said as he jolted her a bit, making her yelp and slap at him uselessly. Pleased, he smirked to himself, then abruptly stopped in place, slowly lowering Asling to the ground.

“Wh–” She started, bewildered by his actions before she froze, hearing a low growl coming from the brush on the right. Their feud forgotten for the time being, she sent Adair a sideways glance, her hand crept towards her bow as the wolves came into sight.

Adair slowly drew his sword as the trio circled around them, teeth bared. They looked half starved and unhealthy; one of them looked to have mange, its fur patchy in some areas, the exposed skin cracked and oozing.

“Ready?” Asling asked, but Adair did not reply aloud, his hands merely gripping at his sword. As if sensing the shift in the air, the wolves moved, snarling viciously.

Asling quickly disposed of the mangy wolf; a shot to the head and the beast was down without a fight, but the other two were healthier and moved faster, the one nearest to her lunging at her.

She dodged quickly to the side to keep her leg out of the wolf's mouth, Adair's sword coming down and killing it as she lay on her back staring up at him.

He opened his mouth to yell at her when the other wolf lept at him while he was distracted. Asling whipped out another arrow and shot the wolf in the shoulder, crippling it enough so Adair could toss it off and finish it.

“Well... that was fun,” Asling commented, rising off the ground and brushing herself off, a coy look on her face. “So, are you going to thank me for saving you?”

Adair wrinkled his nose at her words.

“No, because you did what you were supposed to do,” he said, drawing a rag from his knapsack and cleaning the blood off of his sword. Asling stood there looking smug and he tried to ignore it for as long as he could.

“Are you going to drop this any time soon?” He relented, looking irritated as he kept on up the path.

“Not until you thank me,” she sang, following behind him.

“Terrific.”

* * *

 

Midday arrived by the time Riverwood came into view, the pair already wary of the road and each other. The plan was to grab a bite to eat at the tavern, get more detailed directions to Bleak Falls Burrow and then head out.

Adair had put up with Asling's childish teasing the entire trip, refusing to thank her, but if it meant she would follow him until then, it was worth a bit of suffering.

Means to an end, he supposed.

They entered the tavern and ordered food, settling by the door so they could make a quick exit, though Adair had to admit, it was a cozy place for being located in such a small village. Asling was over at the bar talking with the grumpy looking cook, edging away when a barmaid came out of one of the rooms and the cook's expression ever changing despite the insults. Adair watched with interest, more so because the way the barmaid walked was... odd.

She stood with squared off shoulders and spoke with confidence; one would think she had seen battle before. He dismissed his thoughts in favor for the rest of his food.

After they were finished eating, the pair of them stepped outside, Adair unfolding his map and burying his nose in it, planning their trip up to the burrow.

Meanwhile, Asling was wandering along the main road through town, looking around. She stopped in front of one of the shops, grinning to herself. The Riverwood Trader; this was the shop the cook was talking about, and with one last glance back at her travel companion, she slipped inside.

“Alright, it looks like we will have to stop for the night, but this should be the quickest way,” Adair said, raising his head; but by the time he had realized it was strangely quiet, Asling had been long gone.

“Damnit...” Adair grumbled as he folded his map and stowed it away, looking back down towards Whiterun and saw the road was empty. Well, if she's not run off, then she's probably poking around in one of the shops, he reasoned and after not seeing her at the blacksmith's, he headed into the general store.

“A golden claw you say? Sure, I can help you get that back, especially if you're paying,” Asling was saying, leaning leisurely against the counter when Adair came in.

“Asling! Come on, we need to get moving,” he barked, arms crossed. She jumped and glanced back, an expression on her face that was half guilt and half annoyance. Beside the fireplace, Camilla sat up in her seat, sending the newcomer a friendly smile, her brother noticing the gesture immediately.

“Actually, if you're going to Bleak Falls, I can guide you there,” Camilla said, and Asling raised a brow at her, looking between her and Adair.

“Thank you, but we've got a map,” he said politely to Camilla, his tone hardening as he shifted his attention away.

“ _Asling!_ ”

“I'm coming,” she grumbled, waving to Lucan, who was too busy glaring at Adair to notice.

“Don't worry, you'll have it back, safe and sound.” Asling sent a longing look to the dust covered spell tomes in the corner then went out the door.

“What are you doing? We're behind schedule,” he informed her, stepping quickly to make up for lost time.

“We're leaving now, aren't we?” Asling said in exasperation, having to jog to keep up with his pace as she was considerably shorter than him.

“Finally...” He said just loudly enough for her to hear, and she stuck her tongue out at his back. They headed east out of town, Adair leading the way. He strode down the middle of the bridge, glancing back at her as she had slowed to a stop unknowingly. How... deliberate. Why walk over just so you could cross in the exact middle?

Adair clapped his hands to get her attention.

“Well? We're wasting daylight here. Hurry it up before the sun sets,” he beckoned her with a roll of his hand and Asling sighed, trotting up after him.

He really was an insufferable ass.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you're wondering if they will stop fighting, and the answer is no, no they won't.


	4. Dungeon Crawling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pair arrive at their destination and find more than they bargained for.

_Middas, the 19 th  of Last Seed, 4E 201 _

Evening was falling rapidly, and the pair stopped a few yards off from a rundown outpost. The shelter would make a great resting place for the night, but first it needed to be cleared of its current inhabitants; three bandits, the largest of them lurking outside at the entrance.

Even from the distance they were at, Adair could tell the bandit was easily the same height as him, but the problem was he outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds. Two more were wandering around at the top of the structure, but the guard was the biggest problem. Literally.

“We'll have to take him out first. Stealth is our only option since they outnumber us and have the high ground,” Adair said as Asling crawled up beside him, her bow gripped in her hand. She hummed softly, examining the outpost from a distance, then began digging through the snow. She grinned and looked back to Adair.

“Tell me, how good is your aim?”

Adair gave her an odd look until he saw the rock she held in her hand; well this might even the odds at least if she managed to shoot the big one out front. He plucked the rock away as she readied an arrow, lining it up with her target.

“Hit the big one for me, will you?” She asked without looking at him. Adair was about to protest to her ordering him around but decided it wasn't worth it, winding up and chucking the rock. It sailed through the air, missing its target by an inch, but the sound of it clattering on the stone bridge made him turn, and Asling released her arrow in the same instant.

The arrow found its mark in the back of the bandit's skull and he teetered a moment before toppling head over heels off the bridge, his limp body rolling down the snowy embankment.

“Haha! Perfect! Now for the other two,” she said, patting him on the shoulder as she crawled closer.

“Too bad you didn't hit him, but you were close,” Asling added and Adair growled in response, drawing his blade and following her. A faint shout came from the outpost, the sound of the first bandit tumbling over the bridge drawing out one of the others.

Asling made eye contact with Adair and inclined her head towards the bandit on the ground; she was hoping that Adair charging that one would give her a clear shot of the one in the tower.

The plan worked like a charm, and soon they had the tower to themselves.

“Right, well let's eat then get some rest. We're almost there, but it'll be better to arrive rested as there's sure to be more bandits there,” Adair said, looking up to see if she was even listening.

“Yeah yeah, I hear you...” she sighed, without pausing what she was doing. Asling was leaning over one of the dead bodies, busy turning out their pockets and once she had found everything of value, unceremoniously dumping them off the bridge.

Adair watched her over his map, his face scrunched up.

“Have you no decency?” Asling snorted at his comment and looked at him coolly.

“They're dead, what are they going to do with it?” she asked, and Adair bit his tongue; it was worthless to reason with her over this.

“Right, well hurry it up, we need to get to sleep, there's a storm blowing in,” he said dryly, folding up his map and stomping up the steps of the outpost.

“Someone definitely needs to sleep since they're so cranky,” Asling muttered, following him up.

The night was spent with the two of them huddled together in their bed rolls for warmth. Asling had made the suggestion after the first wave of snow began to fall, and Adair had little reason to argue; it wasn't as if they could have a fire in this rickety old place.

They pressed themselves against the southern wall to avoid the biting wind that had rose from a whisper to a howl in the time it took them to settle in, and Adair made a point to tell Asling that this was only a one time thing.

* * *

 They rose at the break of dawn at Adair's insistence, choking down breakfast and heading farther up the mountain to the ruins. They could see the tips of the arches around the cliff face now, the markers scattered alongside the worn road becoming more numerous the closer they got.

They traveled mostly in silence as Asling was too tired to argue, her mood sour because of the early morning and the sharp drop in temperature.

Within the next hour, they had arrived at the crumbling steps and sure enough, there was another group of bandits waiting outside.

“Why don't we just sneak around them?” Asling said in a hushed whisper, making a move to creep off but Adair stopped her.

“No... we do this together. Here, you cover me from the archers and I'll take out those two,” he said, pointing out his targets, then drawing his sword. Asling was tempted to let Adair handle it on his own, but had the feeling that with her luck, he would survive and she would have to carry him back down the damn mountain.

Or he would die and haunt her til the end of her days...

After the outside threat was taken care of, the pair approached the entrance, though Adair hung back, his eyes darting around, his mouth drawn in a thin line. He ran what Asling had said through his mind, and realized there was something... off. Asling heard the falter in his step, turning to see Adair clinching his jaw.

“What now?” She looked impatiently at him, hands going to her hips.

“Where did Farengar say this Dragonstone was?” He asked carefully.

“In the main chamber of the tomb of course,” she replied, sending him a funny look at the way he was acting; what the hell was wrong with him?

“Isn't there usually a back entrance we can use?” Adair asked, staring out into the distance and refusing to meet her gaze.

“There is, but we would have to go back down to the other side of the mountain...” She stepped away from the door and went over to the edge of the landing, peeking off to the side at the sheer drop then coming back over to where Adair was standing.

“I hope you can fly, because there's no way we will make that... why? Are you scared of some musty old tomb?” She grinned at him. Adair puffed up his chest and glared at her.

“No, I'm not. I'm just realizing what a mistake this was coming here,” he sniped, and Asling scoffed in reply.

“You and me both, but it's a little too late for that, now isn't it?” She said tartly, raising a brow at him and went to push open the door.

“Now unless you're staying here, come on,” she hissed, ducking inside. Adair followed her, trying to shake off the sense of dread; he never was fond of tombs...

He wrinkled his nose at the sharp scent of blood, mingling with the dusty rot that seemed to cling to his nostrils. Ugh... foul...

To his left, Asling was crouched down in the entryway and she reached up to grab his arm and tug him down to her level.

“What are–” he started, but she shushed him, pointing across the room to the flickering fire and the two subsequent shadows their light was casting on the far wall. More bandits, of course.

“I don't have time for this...” Adair said, drawing his blade and flanking around to the side as Asling watched him. She didn't think he was capable of sneaking around in that heavy armor, and he had made good progress until his foot scraped against one of the loose stone bricks, making a dull clunking sound and alerting his targets of his presence.

Or maybe he wasn't so great... Asling let out a sigh and drew back her bow.

The effort proved useless as Adair quickly dispatched both bandits with only three swings and a block. Asling watched in awe as Adair twisted lightly on his feet and brought down the blade, taking out the second bandit without much effort. He did have some skills apparently; though stealth definitely wasn't one of them.

Her hand slowly returned her bow to its resting place on her back, skipping over to Adair, whom was bust cleaning off his blade again, the dead bandits lying at his feet.

“What was that about us working together?” she said smugly.

“Shut up... I just want to get out of here...” he snapped, turning on his heel to enter the lower part of the chamber. He was down about halfway when he realized Asling wasn't behind him, raising his hand and snapping his fingers at her to hurry up.

“Come on!” He could see her, bent over something, thinking at first that she was looting bodies again but she soon sat up and he spied the corner of the chest she was pawing through.

Unbelievable... he definitely did not have time for this.

“Oooh, look at this! Makes the trip almost worth it,” Asling chirped, hastily cramming the gold and gems into her bag because Adair was leaving her behind.

“Wait up!”

Adair heard her, but made no such motions in slowing down, speeding ahead with his sword ready, and by the time she had caught up, he had already killed another bandit. “Pick up the pace,” Adair snarled and Asling let out a snort in reply as they went deeper in.

“Someone's antsy. Claustrophobic are you?” she taunted, drawing her bow back to shoot another bandit when Adair stopped her, a scowl on his face. He jabbed a finger towards the next chamber, and Asking had just enough time to turn and see the bandit flipping the switch in the middle of the floor.

A rain of darts showered down from the wall, the poison killing him before they could make it down to him. Asling looked to Adair with a defiant expression, but nodded her head, turning her attention to examine the room. Above them on the upper balcony was a series of stone carvings, each depicting a different animal. She spied the stone pillars to the left of her, matching insignias carved into them.

“Alright... it's a puzzle...” she said, scampering up the steps before Adair could stop her.

“You have to turn the pillars to match the stones over there, see?” She pointed across the room, then turned to regard the symbols. Asling called out the symbols and Adair turned the pillars to match.

“Looks like one of them fell, but–” she glanced down and chuckled.

“The last one's a snake.”

They dispatched a group of skeevers and went downstairs into a lower chamber, Adair growing more sullen the farther they went. Asling had given up on talking to him as his nasty mood was, but it gave her more opportunity to loot the surrounding areas without him interfering.

Why didn't she raid tombs more often? Skyrim was full of them from what she had heard, so this was a perfect way to make more money before she skipped town. She was delighted by the thought, then cast a glance at Adair, her spirits falling.

Well, after she ditched the deadweight, she reasoned, snatching a scroll and glass bottle full of some dark liquid off of one of the tables. She tucked them in her bag without even looking at them and continued on, the hair on the back of her neck pricking up. There were a lot more spiderwebs down here, and it didn't take them long to find out why. They heard shouting ahead at Adair made a motion for her to be quiet, earning a glare from her, but she consented, sneaking up alongside him to peer into the room around the mess of tree roots and webbing.

There were plenty of corpses and spiderwebs, but no sign of the spider, the only life form in the room was a Dunmer wrapped up in the far doorway, squirming in an attempt to get out, but was making little headway.

“Come on...” Adair spoke to her in a hushed tone – the first thing he had said in a while – and she jumped a bit, exhaling and following his lead. Ahead, there was an archway where they could enter, only obscured by a mess of webs.

Adair was already clearing the way for them to enter, but Asling hung back shaking her head. There was no way she was going to chance the spider coming back. Deciding it wasn't worth dragging her along, he went in without her, sword readied as the spider dropped down from the ceiling.

Stifling a cry, Asling flattened herself against the wall, trying to make herself disappear.

That spider was HUGE, towering over Adair even before it reared up on its hind legs, striking at him. Lucky for him, the beast was slow, hobbled by numerous injuries to its leg and side. Even still, Adair now appeared to be struggling, unable to do anything but dodge its attacks.

“Some _help_ would be nice!” he bellowed, and Asling snapped out of it, sidling along the wall. She was about to draw her bow when something on the wall caught her eye.

A lever sticking out of the stone.

Her eyes hurriedly scanned the floor, traveling over to where Adair was fighting the spider, and spied dark metal bars beneath the layers of webbing. There was a lot of variables, but little time to think on what to do, so Asling put away her bow, sprinting across the room before the spider drew too far away for the trap to be effective.

Just as the spider reared up again, Asling quickly pulled the switch and opened the trap door, sending the spider down into the pit below. In her haste to be rid of the spider, she hadn't noticed that Adair's foot was on the edge of the door. He let out a curse, quickly balancing himself then rounded on her.

“You idiot! What were you thinking?!” he spat, looming over her in a threatening manner.

“Oh, right, I'm sorry that I saw the giant spider and my first instinct was to get rid of it,” she mocked, rolling her eyes.

“You almost sent me into that damned spiked pit!”

“What a shame you weren't a foot over,” Asling sneered, Adair ready with a retort when the Dunmer cut in.

“Will you two stop arguing and cut me down from here?!” he shouted, catching their attention at last.

“Don't do something that rash ever again,” Adair warned, his tone deadly, but Asling wasn't paying any attention; she had already moved past him and had her dagger drawn, pressed to the now sputtering Dunmer's throat.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“Tell me about the Golden Claw,” she demanded and Adair stared at her in disbelief.

“What are you talking about?” Adair asked, and Asling sent him a wry look.

“Bandits took the Golden Claw from the general store owner in Riverwood; this place is crawling with bandits, but we haven't found their leader yet. Ergo, this is the bandit leader,” Asling spouted out everything in one breath, inhaling sharply, an arrogant expression taking over her face.

“Do try to keep up Adair,” she said airily, then returned her attention to the Dunmer. Adair was stunned for a split second then let out a growl. He was beginning to think this quest was not worth keeping his honor.


	5. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun thing about traveling with others; you learn a lot about them.

_Turdas, the 20 th  of Last Seed, 4E 201 _

After a short back and forth with the trapped Dunmer, Asling now held the Golden Claw and his journal in her possession.

“I told you he would try to run,” she said smugly to Adair, leafing through the pages as they went deeper into the burrow. “He's not really Arvel the Swift anymore; more like Arvel the Dead.”

Much to her disappointment, Adair said nothing in response to her lame joke, his focus more on the growing stench of decay and the knowledge that they were getting closer to the crypts.

Asling was still curious as to why Adair seemed so distracted, but the information in the journal proved far more interesting. She stopped at the top of the staircase and nudged Adair, who started then looked at her with a glare.

“What?” he snapped, his tone sounding more harsh than usual. Asling was taken aback, then glared at him, shaking the journal in his face.

“I just wanted to show you what that stupid Dunmer put in his journal; see?” She jabbed her finger on the section that spoke about the Golden Claw being a key to the burrow.

“No wonder the bandits took it from the shopkeeper,” she said, flipping to the last page of the journal to see if there was anything else, then tucking it away in her bag.

“Yeah, makes sense,” Adair agreed with her without really listening to the words she was saying, and Asling watched as he went down the steps, bewildered by his behavior until she saw the way he was eying the walls of the crypt and the linen wrapped bodies.

Was he squeamish about dead bodies?

That couldn't be it since he didn't react like this to the bandits... maybe it was just these weird mummified corpses that bothered him; she had to admit that they were pretty creepy. Frowning, she followed him slowly down the steps then passed by him, here eyes lingering on his face.

Now that they were walking among the actual coffins, Adair had lost his luster, the sound of dirt cascading down the steps from the crumbling tunnel making the color drain from his face as he reached the bottom of the stairs, his eyes darting around wildly.

Why did he have to be here... this was horrible. Next thing you knew, the bodies would be getting up and walking around.

No sooner had he thought that, his worst fear came true; one of the bodies to his right started moving, shifting with a low groan and rising out of his little stone resting place.

Adair let out a high pitched shriek and scrambled back, hands fumbling to drew his blade. The sound had been striking enough that Asling turned to look at him in disbelief, unsure if the sound had came from him in the first place. Another groan sounded across the chamber and two more draugr shambled around the corner, brandishing an axe and a crude looking bow in their gnarled fingers.

Adair stood frozen, watching them come closer as the furthest draugr raised their bow. Asling had already moved clear of the shot and was astounded to find that he was not beside her.

“By the Nine Adair, quit trembling and pull yourself together!” Asling shouted, yanking him behind a pillar, an arrow striking the stone right where his head had been. Her voice must have been enough to snap him out of it, but that still didn't rid of their other problem.

Asling reached around, trying to draw her bow as she dodged back away from the nearest dragur's axe, the undead getting a little too close for Adair's liking. Acting on impulse, Adair recoiled, raising one arm and sent a wave of fire shooting out, incinerating the draugr in front of him in seconds.

Asling backed out of the way of the flames, her head whipping around to look at her companion, momentarily stunned. The charred remains of the dragur fell to the floor, and lay there, motionless once more.

One down, two to go, Asling thought, raising her bow and shooting down the undead archer while Adair finished off the other one with another onslaught of fire. She looked on with minor sympathy as Adair was still shivering, his face unusually pale and clammy.

“I hate undead...” he shuttered, sheathing his unused blade and glancing over at Asling, whom was broken out of her trance by his voice.

“What–”

“Don't,” Adair warned her firmly before she could go on and she raised her hands defensively.

“Um... alright... heh,” she snickered softly, shaking her head when he glowered at her. As agonizing as it was to not comment on Adair's fear – or his girly scream for that matter – Asling changed the subject as she felt that teasing him on this matter would cause him to draw his blade on her. At least that's what his expression was saying.

“This is me not saying anything about... well that. But on another note; you can use magic?” she asked, rooting around the decaying bodies while Adair looked on in disgust.

“Yes, of course I can use magic.”

“Why didn't you use it on the bandits or the wolves?”

“Because magic is to be respected, not used on a whim– will you stop that?” He snapped finally, and Asling raised her head, holding up a gold coin, it's surface smeared with soot.

“Sure, I'm finished with them anyways,” Asling said, tucking the coin away.

“You really are unbelievable...”

“Yeah yeah... likewise.” Asling shot back, straightening up.

“You know... there's probably more of these things in here...” she said slowly, nudging the nearest one with her foot and making Adair retreat a few steps away from her.

Unwillingly, he nodded his head in acknowledgment, silently admitting that she was probably right; there was probably an entire army's worth of bodies buried here, and some of them were still restless. His skin crawled at the thought.

“All the more reason to get out of here as quickly as possible,” he replied, taking hold of her arm and tugging at it insistently. Asling yanked her arm away, following him nonetheless.

“And you can just set them on fire so we don't have to deal with them, right?” She asked, nudging his shoulder lightly. Adair considered this; fire magic would certainly speed things up...

* * *

“Well... what about skeletons?” Asling asked, kicking a rock down off the small natural bridge they were walking on. She watched it bounce down, disappearing into the water below, then turned her attention back on her companion.

“That's... different. Unsettling yes, but they don't still have flesh on them,” Adair said, rolling his eyes; this was becoming a bit of a chore, but he supposed he should thank the Divines for small favors, namely that she wasn't tormenting him over his phobia. At the end of another corridor, he set another draugr ablaze and shuttered; would he ever be glad to be rid of this place.

The burrow proved to be far deeper than either of them expected; what looked to be the end of the ruins branched off into another natural cave-like chamber and continued on. They moved as quickly as possible, Adair nothing but a bundle of nerves by the time they reached a great stone door.

Asling regarded the door with a frown, running her fingers along the edge to see if there was any way to open it. As she traced over the center, she noticed the strange indention, her face lighting up. “So that's what the journal meant...”

Adair looked at her with a flat expression. “Do what you're going to do; I want to get out of here...” he grumbled as Asling retrieved the claw from her bag. He was getting pissed since this burrow was stretching on into forever, and they still hadn’t found the Dragonstone yet.

“It's just another puzzle... look.” She held up the claw and showed him the markings on the bottom, rotating the three bands on the door so the insignia lined up. After sending Adair another smug look, she placed the Golden Claw in the middle circle, pressing it into the matching markings on the door then rotated.

There was a low grinding sound that built into a rumble, and Asling withdrew the claw and stepped back, watching the stone wheels on the door spin then stop, the door sliding down to reveal more cave. They could feel the floor shaking as the door settled beneath them unseen, and the grinding disappeared into a series of dull clanks.

The pair exchanged uneasy looks and then moved slowly forward, unsure what else might greet them at this point.

“I think... this is the way out...” Asling murmured, fumbling to put the claw away as she took in their surroundings. The corridor opened up into a giant cavern, the main area branching off into two paths; a series of stairs that wound up the far left side and out of sight, while the other being a stone platform containing a curved dark stoned wall, a large chest and what looked to be yet another tomb.

Seeing the chest, Asling made a beeline for it, Adair hot on her heels.

“Wait a minute, we don't know what else might be in here,” he said, looking pointedly at the coffin that lay on a small rise only a few feet away. Asling ignored him, flinging open the chest and began to rummage around.

“Maybe so, but I thought you wanted to get out of here?” She looked over her shoulder at him, then continued to loot the chest; there was enough valuable material in here, she could feast for almost a month. She emptied the chest, sitting back on her hunches and looked to Adair.

“Remember that sketch the Jarl's mage gave us of the Dragonstone?” She spoke, her tone full of concern.

“Yes...” Adair said slowly, walking over to peer into the chest; he didn't like where this was going.

“It's not here. I thought it was supposed to be in the main chamber, and... well...” Asling gestured dramatically to their surroundings to prove her point. Letting out a frustrated growl, Adair began to pace.

“I suppose we'll just have to search the area... it **has** to be in here.” They spent almost a half hour combing the chamber, Asling finding more chests (and looting them without saying anything to her crabby companion) and Adair located the exit, but there was still no sign of the Dragonstone. They made made their way back to the main platform, and Asling watched as Adair threw a tantrum, his frustration boiling over.

“Damn it all to Oblivion!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the chamber before he skirted around the tomb and plopped down on the now empty chest to sulk.

“There's no other place to look, we might have to backtrack...” he grumbled, leaning his face on his hand while Asling scowled, then stopped and raised her head.

Now that Adair had finally shut up, she fancied that she heard something, something that sounded like voices whispering to her. She almost called out, but a quick glance back at Adair made her decide that wasn't such a good idea. She walked in slow circles, homing in on the sound so she could find its source.

Asling tilted her head to the side, her face scrunched up as she strained to hear the voices, stepping lightly across the platform to the dark curved wall, it's surface marred with carvings.

Was the wall talking to her?

Surely she had just been down here too long with Adair and had gone mad... but indeed, the closer she stepped to the wall and it's strange glowing carvings, the louder the voices got.

Maybe this was a bad idea...

The thought flashed through her mind, but she couldn't stop herself, entranced by the glow and the chanting she could hear coming off the wall, the sound almost a roar in her ears, until finally she got close enough and the wall lit up in white, the brightness catching Adair's attention.

Asling felt a similar sensation to when she killed the dragon as the light poured into her, stood there in shock even after the light had faded away, the new knowledge playing through her mind. Adair was on his feet, watching her with reservation.

“What just happened?” He asked, and Asling shook her head, awestruck.

“I... have no clue... but it was like, when I killed the dragon.”

“Wha–” Adair had started to ask what she meant when a loud, dry crack sounded from behind him, head whipping over to the source. He let out a shrill yelp and backed away from the coffin as its inhabitant shoved the lid aside and rose out, clutching a large two-handed battleaxe.

“You got to be kidding...” Adair growled, ducking out of the way before the draugr could land a blow. Asling had recovered enough to draw her bow, releasing an arrow as soon as Adair was out of the way. The arrow struck the draugr in the shoulder, but there wasn't much of an effect.

“I thought you said that tomb was sealed?!” Adair yelled as Asling as the draugr came closer, raising his sword to block, then thought better of it and ran off to the side as the axe came down. Asling skirted around to the back of the shambling corpse, giving Adair a nasty look.

“It WAS sealed when I was trying to open it. Maybe if you had helped me instead of whining, we could have moved the lid!” She snarled, shooting more arrows into the draugr, the shots making him stagger but did little to hamper his progress and Asling was running low on arrows when she spied something.

“Adair! Look!” She jabbed her finger towards the draugr's back where a stone tablet hung, secured to a line of rope. Adair let out an obnoxious sigh.

“Of course he's got the fucking Dragonstone... of course...” They found the stone, now all they had to do was get it.

“I have a plan, but you're gonna have to fight him. And no fire,” She said, putting away her bow and drawing her dagger from her boot.

“I already don’t like it!” Adair said, circling around on the platform, keeping a good distance away from his enemy.

“Just do it! Distract him, I'll get the stone and _then_ you can set him on fire!” She shouted, sounding exasperated. Adair really didn't have to do much; the draugr already had his attention on him, baring his teeth at the Altmer, who shuddered at the sight. Asling crept up behind the draugr, loosening the knot with the tip of her blade, thankful that Adair was keeping the draugr busy; though it didn't last long.

Asling felt the rope slip out of her fingers and knew she was in trouble, the Dragonstone slipping free from its bindings and fell to the floor with a clatter. The draugr growled at them in some unknown language, knocking Adair off his feet with the axe and loomed over Asling. She cursed and scooted back, glancing over at Adair, who was way too far away now to help now.

He lay on his side the wind knocked out of him, waving his hand at her. “Don't look at me you idiot! Fight! Push that abomination off the side!”

Asling grit her teeth and shakily got to her feet, dodging the swing of the axe as she herded the draugr closer to the edge, her mind racing frantically in search of a plan.

She had to push him over... but how? He may move slow, but that battleaxe had a long reach. Finally the draugr was in position, now she just needed one good push...

On a whim, Asling decided to use the word the wall had given her; better than nothing at all.

 **{“FUS!”}** She spoke a single word, the resulting shout sent a wave of energy out in front of her, missing Adair by inches and striking the draugr full force. He tumbled over the edge of the platform and crashed down onto the rocks below, his dried out husk of a body twisting at an awkward angle.

“Umm... bye then...” Asling muttered, leaning over to watch him writhe a bit, then go still. She stared at the body for a moment, then sat back and started laughing, twirling around in excitement.

“Haha! Did you see that?! I-I used that word that the wall taught me and BOOM!” She mimed the draugr going off the platform, making an explosion sound with her mouth. Adair watch her with a deadpan expression, praying to the gods despite not having any real faith to speak of.

If Asling was truly the Dragonborn as she just demonstrated, then Skyrim was going to need some divine intervention.

 


	6. Change of Plans

_Turdas, the 20 th  of Last Seed, 4E 201 _

 

**{“DOVAHKIIN.”}**

A single word echoed across the lands like thunder as the pair descended the cliff face at the rear of the burrow. Asling paused and raised her head, shivering, then dismissed the noise as weariness from the battle. Must have been her imagination.

They had just managed to get out of Bleak Falls, discovering that the rear exit was right across from Lake Ilinalta, just east of Riverwood, which made their trip shorter than expected. But as Asling had pointed out that morning, the back door was carved right into the mountain, so they had to carefully climb down before trekking downstream and into town.

Asling was taking a moment to enjoy the scenery when she heard a familiar angry voice and redirected her attention to her companion, whom was attempting to trek down a few yards below her.

“Ugh... why do I have to carry this thing again?” Adair grumbled, hefting up the Dragonstone a little higher as they weaved their way down. The ground crumbled beneath him while he was busy complaining and he skid down the incline a few feet, cursing loudly until he regained his balance.

“And why in Oblivion did we take _this_ way?” He growled angrily, brushing himself off and glaring up at Asling.

She was currently clinging to a boulder and roaring with laughter, replying to him after she had calmed herself. “Ha! Would you have rather gone back through the crypt?” Asling grinned at him, picking her way down the cliff without much difficulty as her load was much lighter.

“No.” Adair said flatly. He gave her a blank stare before walking off without her, headed towards Riverwood. Asling snickered again and he sent her a look over his shoulder, warning her to drop the subject immediately.

They had a good hike ahead of them before they reached town, and given there weren't many hours left in the day, Adair was pushing them to go as fast as possible so they wouldn't be traveling too long in the dark. And at least this way, they wouldn't have to sleep outside.

They hadn't even made it to the treeline before Asling rushed over in a panic and yanked Adair to the ground by his shoulder guard. “Down! Down!” Asling hissed, stifling any protests with one hand.

Irate at the lack of explanation, Adair glared at her and Asling merely nodded her head wordlessly towards the sky, all of her previous humor gone. He followed her line of sight, gritting his teeth; swooping down among the treeline they needed to go into was a dragon, its greyish green scales catching the sun's rays and shimmering.

This was going to slow progress...

Asling had her face half buried into Adair's hair, her now trembling hand still clutching at his shoulder as they listened to the beast tear through the trees, hunting some poor unfortunate soul. Adair couldn't believe that this little wood elf cowering behind him not only killed a dragon, but was the only one who could make sure they stayed dead.

Fighting it and killing it would be the responsible thing to do, although he had to admit that given the long day they had, he was in no mood to fight something that ferocious...

There were great roars coming from the woods ahead, the once sweet breeze carrying the stench of ash and charred flesh and finally, the dragon rose again into the air, a half dead elk in its claws as the pair scrambled for cover. There were few landmarks that would make good shelter, so they flattened themselves along the side of the hill among the jutting rocks, hoping that the scarce shadows would be enough coverage provided they didn't move. They watched with baited breath as the dragon flapped its great wings and soared higher, elk still writhing feebly in its grip as it disappeared over the mountain.

The shadows steadily grew longer and they waited until Asling could feel the muscles in her calves grow tight and sore, but the dragon did not return. “I think... he's going now...” she said meekly, loosening her grip on Adair and gradually getting to her feet, her legs feeling like rubber, protesting after staying scrunched up for so long.

Adair shook himself off, casting a wary glance back at the mountain then trekking forward. “Come on then,” he said curtly; avoiding the dragon had cost them precious time, and now it was almost dark. Making a rude gesture behind his back, Asling scurried to catch up with him and the pair traveled into the trees in silence.

Even in the rapidly fading light, they could still see the scorched patches of grass and dug up earth from where the dragon's claws had landed. Asling shivered a bit, keeping close to Adair as they passed by what surly had been the elk's last location before the dragon claimed it, blood soaking into the earth and turning it dark.

They had just crested over the last hill before Riverwood, the faint glint of torchlight from the guards a welcome sight. Now they just needed to get across the river into town and they could finally eat and rest.

“Okay so... what about ghosts?” Asling asked as they crossed the stone bridge and looped around to get back into town.

“Ghosts?” Adair turned to her, his face scrunched up at the sudden comment.

Asling nodded, fidgeting with her bag and looking at him funny. “Ghosts; you know, semi corporal spirits? Are you afraid of them?” She spoke in a way that suggested he should have known exactly what she was talking about.

Adair let out a sigh and shook his head. “I don't even believe they exist.” She was on this again...

“Well sure they exist,” she insisted, stepping past him to get the door to the inn. She opened the door for herself then let it fall back, almost hitting Adair in the face.

Adair roughly shoved the door open in annoyance. “I've never _seen_ one before –”

“Then how can you be sure they don't exist?” Asling cut in, earning a loud huff in response.

“Whatever... and no. _If_ they exist – and they **don't** – I'm not afraid of them,” he grumbled out, slinging the Dragonstone up onto one of the tables. He jerked his head over to the barmaid, Delphine then pointed at Asling.

“I paid for the food last time; you're paying for the room. Now go see if there's one available so we don't have to camp outside,” he ordered.

“Oh yes, what ever Mi'lord wishes,” Asling gave him a mock bow and another rude gesture – this one in plain sight – then went over to inquire about a room. She reluctantly paid up for the room, pleased at least that there would be a bed, even if it meant they had to share again. Better than outside in the cold. She ordered food for them both, then went back over to the table.

“Pay up; I got the room but I'm not paying for your meal,” she said, holding out a hand and wiggling her fingers until Adair slapped a few coins into her palm.

Stingy bitch, he thought with distaste, looking disgruntled. A little while later when a stony faced Orgnar brought them their meals, he had to admit to himself that Asling at least had good taste in food; she could have ordered him nothing but uncooked vegetables. And a little while after that when he was watching her drunkenly singing along with the bard in the corner, he decided she had had too much of a taste for mead as well.

He turned in well before her, waking to the feeling of the bed shifting as she joined him. He closed his eyes as she kicked her boots off then cuddled her face into his back, passing out almost immediately. Adair closed his eyes, letting out a grunt as Asling flung her hand up around him, smacking him in the face. Nudging her hand out of the way, he scooted up the bed, growling low as she moved with him, her face buried in between his shoulder blades.

Too tired to keep fighting it, he gave in and laid still. Whatever, this was the last night he would have to deal with this. Come tomorrow evening at the latest, he would be rid of her.

* * *

 

Adair had awoken rather early, rolling over and discovering that she was no longer there. Gritting his teeth, he swung his legs out of bed and quickly got dressed, checking to make sure all his belongings where there.

Relief flooded through him when he found the Dragonstone, safely tucked under the bed with his bag with everything still inside, but it still made him wonder; where did Asling run off to?

He thought it was rather odd that he hadn't seen that weird barmaid yet this morning, but he fact that Asling was missing _again_ was a far more urgent matter. In a rush to find her, he stepped outside, looking one way then the other when the town drunk stumbled over, reeking of ale and already sloshed before most folk had even had their breakfast.

“You lookin' fer your friend?” He spoke in a groggy slur.

Adair wrinkled his nose in distaste then cleared his throat. “Er... yes actually,” he said, both hopeful that she was still and town and wishing that she had ran off in the middle of the night. At least that way, he wouldn't have to deal with her any longer.

The drunk pointed off to the side, slurring out a reply. “She's in the general store... had somethin' shiny in her hand.”

The claw. Of course.

After politely thanking the drunk and skirting around him at a careful distance, Adair stomped up the road to the Riverwood Trader.

Entering the shop with his jaw set in a deep scowl, he found Asling in the same spot as last time; leaning over the counter chatting with the shopkeeper, whom was eagerly showing her his wears. He noted the claw was sitting on the counter and realized that she had actually returned it... most likely for a reward judging from the generous pile of gold on the counter between her and the shopkeeper, but it was still more... altruistic than he expected of her.

“Ah, Adair...” Asling spoke. Her head had turned the moment she heard the door opening, hastily slipping something into her bag before Adair could see what it was. She passed a small portion of the gold to Lucian and stowed away the rest. “What? Did you really think I would just leave after going through all that trouble getting that blasted thing?” She gestured to the Dragonstone then sent Lucian a wave, whom was busy watching Adair.

“Part of me hoped so,” Adair said blandly as they stepped outside, heading back to the tavern for a quick breakfast.

“Poor you...” Asling scoffed in return. “You won't get rid of me until we're back in Whiterun and I've got that reward in my hand,” she told him, and he did not doubt her words in the slightest.

* * *

After breakfast, they set off for the capital, making good enough time that they reached the gate of the hold rather early in the afternoon. Whether it was because both of them were in high spirits from a good night's sleep, or they were ready to be rid of one another, there was no arguments between them along the way; Asling even holding the door for Adair as they entered Dragonsreach.

“Manners at last, thank you,” Adair chimed. Asling let out a snort but said nothing else, stepping lightly up the steps to speak with Farengar.

Farengar was bent over the table, speaking with a hooded figure over a warn out looking map. He raised his head at the sound of their boots on the wooden floor. “Oh? You got the stone and didn't die? Perhaps I was mistaken about you,” he commented, straightening as Adair drew the Dragonstone off of his back, eying the figure with curiosity.

The figure dipped their head to keep their face hidden as Farengar instructed them to go see the Jarl. Adair cast one last look back at the figure, deciding that after Asling left, he would go investigate. He could have sworn he saw that person before...

Standing before Balgruuf with an eager expression, Asling bounced from one foot to the other; this was taking longer than she had expected, but she ceased her fidgeting as Balgruuf sat up in his seat.

“I dub you Thane of Whiterun,” he spoke, and Asling sent Adair a smug expression, earning an eye roll. Balgruuf went on despite the lack of focus from his audience. “And I assign Adair to be your personal housecarl–”

“What?!” Asling and Adair said in unison, meeting each others' gaze and glaring. This was more horrifying than the thought of fighting that dragon outside the Burrow. Balgruuf let out a low chuckle of amusement.

“I suppose you don't agree? But you've both proven that you work well together, given that's the quickest I've ever had a quest completed,” he spoke, clearly taking great pleasure in their dislike of the situation. He looked pointedly at Adair, his demeanor more serious.

“Should you not want to travel together, that decision lies with Asling, but my word stands,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “But that brings up another matter... the Greybeards are seeking audience with you.”

“Grey... beards?” Asling said slowly, her face scrunching up.

Balgruuf had a patent expression on his face as he explained. “Did you not hear their summons the evening before? They're calling for the Dovahkiin, the Dragonborn.”

Asling grimaced. “Of course it was a call for me, as that's just what I need,” she said, sarcasm thick in her tone but Balgruuf was in no way hindered by her attitude.

“An audience with the Greybeards is a great honor, you should heed their call.”

“Err... right. I'll think about it,” she consented; anything to end this conversation so she could leave.

* * *

Reward now in hand, Asling fled down the steps from Dragonsreach and away from Adair's protests. As soon as she tried to dismiss him so she could leave for Riften, he began insisting that they go see the Greybeards instead.

“So you're just going to leave without speaking to them? They could have insight on the dragon attacks,” he started as they approached the gigantic doors to leave Dragonsreach.

“I think not. I'm not here to fight dragons,” Asling said, ducking out the door.

Adair followed her outside, still trying to change her mind. “I think you should if you have any sort of honor,” he reasoned.

“I thought you had already guessed by now that I have no honor,” she sneered, trying to walk past him down the stairs but he blocked her path. “Move,” she ordered, but Adair stood firm.

“This is just irresponsible,” he spoke, crossing his arms. “Skyrim needs a hero right now–”

“I don't WANT to be a hero!” Asling screamed at last, the brittleness of her tone silencing Adair.

“I don't want it... I didn't CHOOSE to be Dragonborn, and it's not what I want. I wanted...” she shook her head, a disgusted look on her face that she could not find the right words to describe what she felt, redirecting her anger at Adair.

“Even then, if you want to play hero so bad, why don't you go save Tamriel? You Thalmor are always sticking your noses where they don't belong.”

Adair's face twisted at her words; clearly she had struck a nerve. “I am _not_ a Thalmor agent...” he said through gritted teeth.

“Oh really? Hard to tell with that high and mighty demeanor you have,” she taunted.

Adair's fist clinched tightly, his joints popping; he had tried the nice route, but now that she was testing his patience. “What about you? You wanted to be a thief forever?”

“At least as a thief, I only had myself to disappoint and not an entire nation,” She sniped, and Adair was caught off guard by the underlying melancholy in her voice. Asling must have sensed this and walled herself up again. “I rather stick to the shadows, it's what I'm best at,” she finished, slipping past him to head down into the Wind District.

“I hate to break it to you, but there won't be any shadows to slink into if these dragons overrun Skyrim,” Adair tried a different approach, trotting down to match pace beside her. “Do you really think they won't spread all over Tamriel and just stay here?”

“Don't you have someone else to follow around and nag?” Asling huffed, earning a dry laugh from Adair.

“Unfortunately no; a housecarl tends to their Thane's estate and other personal property, but seeing as you've no property in Skyrim, I suppose you are stuck with me,” he lied. This was partly true, as Asling could just order him to stay here, but Adair was willing to breech orders and... tolerate this annoying girl if it meant keeping Skyrim safe. If she wouldn't make the effort herself, then he would have to squeeze it out of her.

They stood there while Asling thought, a mutinous expression on her face at his words; she knew he couldn't be telling the entire truth about following her; Balgruuf himself said that it was up to her discretion on what he should do. Doubtless he would follow her into Oblivion if she didn't just agree to what he said, and she begrudgingly had to admit, he was right about the dragons.

“Fine... I'll see the blasted Greybeards and if I must have you with me, than so be it...” Asling spoke at last, looking down and kicking a rock with her boot. This was going to be more of a hindrance than a help, but perhaps an ally would be best; unwanted or not. And, he did have a map and knew Skyrim better than she did; the hard part would be getting him to take her to where she needed to go without him asking questions, but she had faith that she could find a way.

“Well... now that we're stuck together...” She said slowly, meeting Adair's gaze and half shrugging. “Want to get drunk?”

 


	7. A Few Drinks In

_ Fredas, the 21 th of Last Seed, 4E 201 _

A hot meal and few hours later, the pair was seated in the Bannered Mare, Asling only about halfway to tipsy and was starting to see why Adair never drank; only three ales in and he was barely coherent. At the current moment, he was reclining lazily against the bar, studying her with a serious expression as he attempted to take a sip of his ale with the side of his mouth, a rather comical sight.

“You know... you're pretty strange for a thief...” he said around his mug.

Asling let out a snort in response. “How so? I would have thought I was pretty typical for a thief,” she said with a smirk. “I'm witty, nimble of foot as well as fingers, and of course, I steal things.”

“That's true... but I think you could be a better person than you are... not that you're that bad to begin with...” he said, the comment catching Asling off guard; he must have her confused for someone else. “And I don't know many thieves that are also Dragonborn,” he added, holding up his mug as if toasting to the notion, then downed the rest of its contents.

“I don't know many thieves who are heroes either,” she pointed out. “I don't agree with you but... I can't argue with that last bit. I'm the only Dragonborn I've ever met,” she exhaled slowly, raising her mug as well. Why bother trying to improve her character? Asling was happy the way she was, living her life for herself. She couldn't fathom why Adair was so eager to reform her, save for her apparently being the Dragonborn. That and “Skyrim needed a hero” was a common topic around here.

She pondered on these thoughts, watching Adair try and fail to wave down the barmaid for another glass; she had already slipped the woman a few gold coins to pass him by as Adair had quite enough for one night and didn't the extra effort of carrying him upstairs. A voice spoke across the inn and Asling turned her attention elsewhere, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

That damned bard again... he already tried to approach her earlier, but was redirected by Adair.

Apparently, he did not like bards much, or maybe it was just this bard.

“No doubt they still tell tales of Mikael and his sweet songs across Cyrodiil, where last I traveled,” Mikael was saying to the other patrons, his prideful tone grating on her nerves.

“I can say with great confidence that you all should doubt that since I'm from Cyrodiil,” Asling called loudly from her seat at the bar, earning laughter from the crowd seated at the fire. Mikael's head shot in her direction, sending her a brief scowl that morphed into a smirk when she turned away.

She nudged Adair with a grin on her face until she saw he was laying his head down on the counter, close to passing out. So much for the back up, she grimaced as Mikael came closer.

“Oh? Do you doubt my words fair maiden?” The bard slid into the empty seat beside her, raising a brow. Chest puffed out and tone smug, he certainly thought he was the Divine's gift to woman... perhaps some sharp words would change his mind.

“I more than doubt them bard; were you any sort of notable, I would have recognized you as soon as I stepped in here,” she said, propping her chin on the back of her hand, watching with immense pleasure as his eyes narrowed at the slightest increment.

He recovered quickly, however and straightened in his seat, mirroring her pose and inched closer to her as he spoke again. “Well my beautiful lady, should you decide to spend the night with me, I can promise you'll never forget me.” Mikael spoke smoothly, flashing her a toothy smile and Asling considered shoving him right off of his stool and onto his ass, but Adair beat her to the punch.

Literally.

While she was distracted by Mikael's weak attempts to flirt with her, Adair had stumbled off his stool behind her and cocked a shaky arm back, slugging the bard. The blow only glanced across the side of his head, but made enough contact that his body twisted around comically atop the stool, then toppled over to the floor, dazed.

“Don't you talk to her like that you milk drinking ass...” Adair growled, his hands clinched into fists as he stood over the bard. He would have sounded far more intimidating if his eyes weren't so clearly out of focus from the liquor.

Asling blinked then exploded with laughter. “Wonderful shot Adair,” she grinned, patting him on the shoulder and making him wobble over until she caught him and braced him against the bar.

“Maybe it's time to get you to bed...” she muttered, her hand going to pay their tab when a voice cut in from the floor.

“Cheap shot! You'll pay for that!” Mikael shook his head, slowly getting to his feet, his face twisted in anger. Adair lunged for Mikael again, but was stopped short by a wave of dizziness.

“No, this is a cheap shot,” Asling stepped around Adair and punched Mikael herself; while Adair may have been far stronger than her, she was not near as uncoordinated and the hit landed dead center between his eyes. Out cold from the impact, Mikael feel to the floor with a dull thump and lay motionless.

This time, he wouldn't be getting up.

Cheers went up around the tavern and one of the burly Nords nearest Asling pounded her roughly on the back in admiration. Adair apparently was not done fighting and went after the Nord, albeit unsuccessfully. The Nord caught him and held him up, laughing in a deep booming voice. “I think your friend has had enough.”

“Yeah... no kidding...” Asling snorted as she shook out her fingers, her knuckles stinging. “Calm down Adair... your drunk and we're going to bed.”

“I'm not that drunk...” Adair argued.

“Believe me... you are.” She cast a glance down at Mikael unconscious on the floor and rolled the bard over to one of the benches so he was out of the walkway, bending down and digging a stack coins from his purse and slapping them on the counter. “He can pay for our tab, and here's a bit extra,” she murmured, placing a tip in the barmaid's hand as she righted the stool.

“Err... sorry for the lack of music tonight,” she added hastily, slinging Adair's arm over her shoulder and leading him upstairs.

“I had him! I didn't need your help...” Adair spoke, his words slurred.

“Yes, you did have him, but I finished him off, just in case. We got to have each others' backs, remember?” Asling said, leading him into the room and easing him down onto the bed.

“I suppose...” he grumbled, his hands going to paw uselessly at his armor in attempt to remove it.

After removing her own armor and watching Adair struggle for a bit, Asling moved to help him, as there was no way she was letting him sleep with it on.

“Will you stop moving? I'm trying to get your damned armor off,” she said, yanking a tad too roughly at his chest plate. Adair only grunted in response, head lolling to the side as Asling wrestled him out of his padding. As fun as it was watching Adair loosen up, she honestly wished she had kept that last drink from him. He was far too loose now, and it was proving rather tedious to look after him. She held feared he would wander off if left unattended, which while hilarious to think about, would attract far more attention than she wanted.

“There... finally...” she said, releasing his shoulder as she removed the last piece and stowed it under the bed with the rest of their belongings.

“Thanks...” He flopped over on the bed as soon as she let go of him, laying across the bed sideways until Asling moved him over, sinking down onto the bed beside him and drawing the covers over them both.

She rolled to her side and tried to get comfortable, growing irritated at Adair's constant movement. “You are utterly ridiculous... go to sleep...” she mumbled, feeling him shift behind her, lazily draping one arm over her hip.

“Hnn...” Adair grunted in reply then lay still, his breathing slowing down as he slipped into a deep slumber, snoring softly.

Asling let out a sigh, repositioning her head and closing her eyes. While not exactly opposed to the extra body heat, she still found it odd that he was so close to her in such a large bed, writing it off as a side effect from his intoxication. He would return to hating her in the morning, like always.

“Goodnight Adair.” She said, getting nothing but a low grunt in return.

* * *

“Good morning Adair!” Asling sang loudly, her voice splitting Adair's skull in two. She ducked her head to avoid the pillow Adair chucked at her from across the room, stepping over and nudging his shoulder. “Now, now... that was rather rude. And I even brought you breakfast!”

Adair groaned audibly at her words, his stomach rolling. “No... no food... just... silence and sleep...”

“Aww... did someone have too much to drink?” Asling cooed, a grin crawling across her face at the nasty look Adair sent in response. He tried to move away from her and go back to sleep, but Asling immediately grabbed his shoulder.

“Come on... I got some water and food for you. Bread, cheese, and some apples,” she said, forcing him on his side so he was facing her, then gestured to the table where the food was. “Hurry up, we've got places to be.”

With great difficulty, Adair got up, gripping at the edge of the bed as his stomach rolled and knotted again. Food was probably a good idea... if he didn't vomit it back up.

Asling noted his sluggish movements and sighed impatiently. “Alright, come on... our carriage is waiting,” she said, hoping that the prospect of leaving would be enough to motivate him.

“Wait... you hired a carriage?” Adair exclaimed, looking bewildered. When the hell had she ever been willing to drop her own coin on anything.

“Well of course,” she started, taking the bread and water from the table and shoving them towards him as she went on. “Mikael was nice enough to fund the trip, and you said I had to meet the Greybeards, right?”

“So you want to see them?” He asked slowly, stretching his arm out and taking the bread and water from her, marveling at her change of heart.

“Not at all,” Asling said cheerfully. “But, if it means I don't have to listen to you bitch, we should head that way.”

Adair grimaced at her words but said nothing in return, eating his food slowly and trying to fight it from coming back up. He stared at her as she finished fitting her armor, chewing thoughtfully. As willing as Asling appeared, Adair could sense something was off, but he was too sick to consider the possibilities; he just had a good feel for her tenancies to be sneaky.

And how right he was.

While Adair was still passed out, Asling had dug through his things and found his map, tracing over the roads until she found the way to Riften, then began plotting out how she would dupe Adair into joining her. She decided that the easiest way was to make him leave while he was still feeling the effects of the liquor and make him think they would be going to Ivarstead, while the actual route would be past it through Shor's Stone, then to Riften.

According to the carriage driver she spoke to earlier this morning, it would take about a day and a half to reach Shor's Stone if they left within the hour, and they would arrive at the gates of Riften by nightfall the following day.

Ironically, if she had just gone East instead of North, she would have made it to Riften and bypassed all this trouble with the Dragonstone and Adair... far too late now, but at least she was finally on track.

She just hoped her contact was still waiting for her, watching in agony as Adair took his sweet time finishing the last of the food she had brought him, then don his armor. As soon as he was on his feet, Asling plucked her bag up and darted down the stairs, shifting from one foot to the other as she watched Adair trudge behind her. “For the Divine's sake, will you hurry up?”

“If I go any faster, I'll get to taste my breakfast again...” Adair grumbled, gingerly stepping down the steps with legs that shook like a newborn calf's. “Why did you even take me up here in the first place?”

“The only reason I dragged your ass upstairs to begin with is because if I hadn’t, listening to you bitch about sleeping on the floor in your armor would have been a bigger strain on me than it is now,” she said tritely, and was once again successful in silencing her companion. Though she supposed that he would exact his revenge once he was feeling better.

Downstairs by the fire, Mikael sat tuning his instruments. It looked as if his nose had been broken and the side of his face was purple and bruised. Asling caught Mikael's eye, sending him a wide grin and a peppy little wave. The bard turned his head away from her, leaving her snickering to herself.

Serves the bastard right.

Seeing how battered the bard was, Adair turned to Asling, his mouth open to ask what had happened, but quickly shut it as soon as he saw the look on her face. He decided he rather not know, following her out the doors of the tavern and through town. After making their way outside the gates, they boarded the carriage and started off on the next leg of their journey.

Asling leaned against the side of the carriage and watched as Adair hung out the back, entertained by how sick the alcohol had made him. “Had I known you had such a delicate stomach, I might have suggested something lighter last night, like perhaps milk or water,” she said in a teasing tone.

Adair didn't need to look at her to see her smug expression. “Shut your mouth before I do it for you.” He turned towards her and glared, though there was little energy behind his threat with how green his face looked.

Letting out a snort, Asling scooted her feet away from him. “Please don't vomit on my boots; I like these and they weren't cheap,” She said in amusement.

At first, all she got was a groan in response as Adair laid his head down and closed his eyes. “Wake me when we reach Ivarstead,” he mumbled, curling up into a tighter ball as the carriage rolled over a dip in the road.

“As you wish,” Asling said, shifting around and getting comfortable in her seat. She glanced at Adair to make sure his eyes were shut, then drew a dusty book from her knapsack, brushing off the cover then cracking it open. This was a long ride, so she might as well keep herself busy.

 

**Author's Note:**

> That’s it for now, thank you for reading and feedback is always welcome~  
> I’ve no idea how often I’ll be updating this, but there’s plenty more story to come.


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